


I am so Freaking Bored, Nothing to do today

by dancingsweetheart129



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Attempted Suicide, Batfamily doesn't exist, Batman is not a thing, Just Bruce Wayne, M/M, Mentions of Rape, NO CAPES, homeless!au, kind of, mentions of child abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-06-29 04:36:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15722109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingsweetheart129/pseuds/dancingsweetheart129
Summary: Dick continued on his path home when one of the boys ran right past him, the sirens getting louder.“They’re going to get you too, run,” the boy said, and Dick realized he was right. A 16 year old boy wandering the streets in the afternoon by himself? That’s their profile for ‘drug dealer’.“Follow me,” Dick said as he started running, trying his best to ignore the piercing wind on his face. “I’ve got a spot to hide.”Bruce Wayne never became Batman, but the boys have to keep on living somehow.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I decided to finally do this! For a bit of background, everything with the boys is the same as usual, mostly. But no Bruce wayne or Batman to save them. Dick ran off from the circus because he was scared after his parents died, and when he came back, the circus had left. He stayed in Gotham in hopes they would come back and he could rejoin them, but it's been 6 years.

It was stupid really.

Dick shivered as he tried to pull the garbage bag closer around his shoulders, trying his damndest to block out the wind.

But even so, if the dumpster wasn’t blocking it, flimsy plastic wouldn’t either.

He slowly got to his feet. It wasn’t that far to shelter but the icy January wind did little to keep his motivation up. This was his sixth winter on the streets, his luck on the hypothermia front would surely run out eventually.

It would be dark soon, and then it would fall below zero, and he’d really be screwed. It was only two more blocks until home. Well what he had come to know as home, which was an old store front. The glass was busted out of all the windows, but they were boarded up pretty good, and it was fenced in with a lock, but there was a broken part of the fence, and a lose board in one of the windows.

It wasn’t safe, he was sure, but no one was going to fix it up. Crime Alley wasn’t worth it.

He faintly hears some police sirens, though that wasn’t abnormal.

Another thing that wasn’t abnormal was the two boys across the street looking panicked. He could hear one of them curse as they ran off in opposite directions.

Drug deals. Really, they should be more careful.

Dick continued on his path home when one of the boys ran right past him, the sirens getting louder.

“They’re going to get you too, run,” the boy said, and Dick realized he was right. A 16 year old boy wandering the streets in the afternoon by himself? That’s their profile for ‘drug dealer’.

“Follow me,” Dick said as he started running, trying his best to ignore the piercing wind on his face. “I’ve got a spot to hide.”

The boy did as he was told and followed Dick down the street, running as fast as their cold legs would carry them. Luckily the snow was blowing at such an angle that it didn’t gather behind the building, so their footprints couldn’t be followed.

“Go,” Dick whispered, holding back the chainlink fence so that the other boy could duck under. Dick followed, pushing the wire back into place to not raise suspicion. He quickly ran over to the window and pushed in the lose board, giving just enough room that he and the boy could crawl through.

While Dick was replacing the board, the other boy tucked himself against the wall, panting heavily and shivering.

“They won’t find us here,” Dick said, listening as the sirens whizzed by. They couldn’t see inside the building. Of course, Dick couldn’t see out either.

“Thanks,” the boy said, still shivering.

“Here, it’s pretty dark in here,” Dick said, moving to grab the discarded burlap he used as a blanket. He wrapped it around the boy’s shoulders, the last thing he needed was to have the kid freeze to death on his watch. After that, he grabbed one of the few candles he had, lighting it with the tiny bit of fluid left in his lighter.

He didn’t entertain much, so usually the whole lack of light thing didn’t bother him. Tiny bits of sunlight filtered in through one or two spaces in the boards, but in the winter the sun set a lot sooner. If it weren’t so cold, Dick would sleep outside, but he reserved that for days in the summer when he sweltered in the building since no breeze got through.

“I’m Dick, by the way,” He said, taking the candle to look for his other blanket, which wasn’t really a blanket so much as a towel full of holes, but whatever.

“That’s a stupid name,” the boy scoffed, pulling the burlap around himself, still shivering. Dick took the garbage bag he had been using to protect himself from the wind and wrapped that around the boy too.

“It’s short for Richard,” He said, sitting down beside him. “What were you doing out there anyways?”

He had a pretty good idea.

“That kid wanted to buy some pot off of me,” the boy explained, pulling his knees up to his chest. “I’m Jason.”

“Well, Jason, I’d say the coast is clear,” Dick said. “I’m sure your parents are looking for you.”

Jason scoffed.

“I ain’t got parents.” He mumbled.

“No?” Dick asked, and Jason shook his head. “Me either. Haven’t since I was 10.”

“Me either.”

“How old are you, Jason?”

“’m 14.” Jason said, and Dick shook his head.

“Where are you staying then?”

“Places,” Jason shrugged. “Sometimes I stay in the churches, but I’ve been sleeping on this guy’s couch for a few weeks. He deals too.”

“What about the orphanage?”

Dick knew there was one, had thought about going there, but if he went, he wouldn’t be able to leave until he was 18, and what if the circus came back before then?

“They’re way too crowded. If you can take care of yourself, you’re better off on the streets,” Jason explained, blowing on his hands to warm them.

“This guy you’re staying with, is he a friend?” Dick asked. He didn’t exactly take up a ton of space and maybe-

“No, but he offered me a place to sleep, and I couldn’t exactly refuse. The shelters and shit fill up so much this time of year,” Jason said, stretching his legs out in front of him. “’Sides, I owe him. He’s been feeding me and shit, so I just-“

Jason stopped. Dick knit his brows.

“What?” Dick asked, putting a hand on his shoulder, but Jason jerked his shoulder away, obviously not wanting to be touched.

“It doesn’t matter,” He said, shaking his head. “I ought to get back.”

“You sure?” Dick asked, watching the boy shrug off the makeshift blankets, heading to the window. He pried off the lose board, but stopped when a flurry of snow blew in. The both crouched to look out into the world and saw that with the wind came a blizzard, and visibility was low.

Jason would die before getting back home safely. He was only in a hoodie.

“You can stay here with me,” Dick said, replacing the board to keep the snow and cold out. “I don’t have much, but there’s plenty of room here.”

The room itself was large, since it was a store at one point. Dick had guessed it was some kind of liquor store, which sucked because there wasn’t much he could do with a couple empty beer bottles except use them to get water from sinks around town.

But he hauled some busted couch cushions over, and he had flipped over the one with the big stain and the one that had a tear in it. It worked as a bed for him, propped up on some old crates from wine bottles. Jason could have it until he could find something else.

“Yeah, okay,” Jason nodded, looking at the window.

“Here, you can sleep here, I’ll take the floor,” Dick said, patting the cushions. “Are you hungry?”

“A little,” Jason shrugged, going to sit on the makeshift bed.

“Here,” Dick went into his other crate, the one with the fewest holes, and dug out some old bread from the bakery down the street. He had sweet-talked the manager into giving him some at the end of the day once a week or so, the stuff that was too old to sell.

“Thanks,” Jason mumbled, taking the offering.

“Try to get some sleep, alright?” Dick asked, pulling his hood up over his head to cushion the floor a little. He covered Jason’s shoulders again with the burlap, taking the towel for himself. “In the morning I’ll walk you back home.”

* * *

 

Home, it turned out, was pretty shitty.

Dick walked in silence with Jason, keeping an eye out for anything on the street he might want. It was garbage day after all, so he might see a ratty quilt or some clothing. He found a lot of clothes that way.

“You can head back, I know how to get home on my own,” Jason said, shoving his hands in his pockets. The wind had died down, though it was still pretty cold out.

“I don’t mind,” Dick shrugged. “I wanted to go garbage picking today anyways.”

“Why don’t you just steal some shit?” Jason asked, motioning to his clothes. “How do you think I ended up with this?”

“Eh, that’s never really been my thing,” Dick shrugged, putting his own hands in his hoodie pockets.

“You’re a shitty homeless person,” Jason scoffed.

“I’m Romani, I’ve never had a set home,” Dick shrugged. “I traveled with a circus until my parents died.”

“Circus?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, acrobats. They fell during our act, and I just ran because I was scared. When I came back, the circus was gone. Been waiting for it to come back ever since,” Dick explained. “You?”

“My mom was a druggie, she overdid it once, and I didn’t want to get taken by anyone,” Jason shrugged. “Called the police and left before they got there.”

“Jason,” Dick said, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Before his hand could get there though, someone was yelling out to the boy.

The pair looked up, and Dick saw a boy with shaggy hair sticking his head out of a window.

“You better get up here you little shit!” He yelled, and Jason started running. Dick had a fear inside of him that made him follow the boy, into the apartment building and up the stairs until they got to a door that was being swung open.

“I’m sorry, there was a blizzard-“

“I thought we had a deal,” The man said, and he looked older than both of them, at least 20.

“I’m sorry, it was my fault,” Dick said, putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I hid him from the cops and then there was so much snow, I told him to stay with me.”

“You whoring around on me now?”

“What? That’s not what I said,” Dick shook his head, and Jason leaned back into his hand.

“Get in there, you brat,” The man said, reaching out and roughly grabbing Jason’s arm, tossing him into the apartment. He tried to slam the door, but Dick muscled his way in. Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t nice. “This ain’t none of your business, Fucker.”

“Dick, just go back,” Jason mumbled, cowering as the man whipped around to glare at him.

“No, Jason, this guy is a tool,” Dick argued. “Come stay with me, please?”

“I-I” Jason stuttered, looking around at the room.

“You leave, you ain’t never coming back here,” The man said, and Jason’s form slumped, seeming saddened by the idea.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Dick said, pushing past the man and wrapping an arm around Jason’s shoulders. “Let’s get your stuff, Jason.”

“Fine!” The man yelled, slamming the door open so hard that the door knob busted through the plaster. “Get your shit and go. But I find out you took any of my stash, you’re dead.”

He stormed past them to what Dick assumed was a bedroom, slamming the door to that too, though closed this time.

Jason silently gathered things around the living room, a lighter, a pack of cigarettes, a bag stuffed under the couch cushion, a few shirts and another pair of pants. And something from underneath the couch.

A gun. It was a fucking gun.

“Let’s go,” Jason mumbled, heading for the door. Dick followed silently, leaving the door open in hopes that maybe the guy’s apartment would get robbed or something.

* * *

 

“I can’t pay you or nothin’” Jason said as they wormed in through the window. “I don’t have a ton more pot to sell.”

“I don’t want money, Jason,” Dick shook his head, replacing the board. “I just don’t like the idea of you staying with that guy. What was his deal anyways?”

Jason sighed, folding his clothes into a neat pile.

“He just let me pay him flat rate for some pot to sell, gave me the first of it free ‘till I could sell it,” Jason shrugged. “And then he told me I could stay there for a while for nothing if I did some stuff for him.”

“What kind of stuff?” Dick asked, sitting on the makeshift bed. He’d go out later and find something else for one of them to sleep on.

“Not important,” Jason shrugged, stashing his bag of pot in the pocket of his other jeans.

“Jason,” Dick said sternly, and the boy sighed. “Jason did he hit you?”

“Among other things,” Jason nodded, setting his pile of things inside one of the other empty crates. At least there were a lot of those, and that papery stuff that came in the crates too. Dick sometimes stuffed that in an old shirt to use as a pillow.

“Jason what did he do to you?”

“Look, sometimes he just asked me to blow him, okay?” Jason said, turning around to glare at the older boy.

“Is that all he asked you to do?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean, no, but-“

“Jason,” Dick said.

“You want the truth? Fine!” Jason turned around, standing up tall so he loomed over the boy that was sitting. “He fucked me. He only let me stay there if he could fuck me. I didn’t want to, at first, but he made me.”

“Jason-“

“And not only that, he’s a fucking masochist. He liked to choke me until I passed out, or hit me, or bite me until I bled!” Jason shouted, and Dick’s soft face made him fall to his trembling knees, resting his head on Dick’s lap as tears sprang to his eyes.

“It’s okay, Jay, he’s gone now, I’ve got you,” Dick said, gently petting his hair as the boy cried on him. He was just a kid, after all.

They both were.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there's going to be time skips in the first few chapters as we introduce characters. This chapter deals with child abuse and suicide so be warned.

“I have an idea,” Jason said, startling Dick from where he was napping. He sat up to see Jason, taller now, stumbling through the window. The taller he got, the harder it was for him to fit through there.

“Okay?” Dick waited, raising an eyebrow.

“I stole these from the corner,” Jason said, holding up a pack of cigarettes. “I could easily sell these for like a buck each.”

“You don’t need to sell those, we don’t need money right now,” Dick shrugged. “We’ve got enough food for a bit, and it’s not cold anymore.”

“Fine, then I’ll keep them,” Jason shrugged.

“Don’t you dare smoke in here, it’s gross,” Dick scolded, and Jason glared at him, going to flop into his hammock in the corner. It was really just a ratty old comforter in a tarp, but it was secured enough to hold the weight. And it was better than the floor.

“Fine, I’ll smoke in the morning.”

* * *

 

The next day was garbage day, and two of them could cover more ground than one.

Dick was 18, so really he could go find himself a job, but no one was going to hire a homeless person who showered with a bucket full of rain water gathered over however much time it took to fill.

And besides, even if he found a job, would he really be able to provide a better life for he and Jason?

No, probably not. Not in Gotham.

Dumpsters usually sucked, but he had to check the ones by apartment buildings. He always found something useful, some kind of tool, a lighter with a little fluid left, a shirt with holes, sometimes even loaf of bread someone tossed because the end slice had a little mold on it.

But this one had a kid sitting next to it.

“Hey, you lost?”

He didn’t look homeless, at least not to Dick. He was wearing a decently clean pair of pants and a polo shirt.

“No,” The kid shook his head. His shaggy hair and pale face looked familiar, but Dick couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He couldn’t be more than 10.

“You hiding or something?”

“Something,” The kid shrugged, and Dick furrowed his brow.

“Tim! Where are you?!”

The boy’s face paled, moreso than it was, and he tried to tuck himself closer against the wall. He looked to his right and saw a larger woman standing in the open alleyway, and beside her a balding man.

“Don’t let them see me, please,” The boy pleaded, fear in his eyes, and Dick blinked at the couple.

“Hey, buddy, you seen a little runt like this tall?” The man asked, holding his hand out at a very inaccurate height for the boy.

“Hey, could you spare me a dollar?” Dick slurred, letting his eyes go half lidded, letting his head twitch as he approached the pair. “I need to eat.”

“Ugh, he smells like shit,” The man said, scrunching up his nose as Dick got closer.

“Let’s just keep looking, Ron.” The woman said, starting down the sidewalk again, leaving Dick to return to normal once they were out of earshot. He went back to where the kid was hiding and knelt down.

“It’s okay, they’re gone,” He said, holding out a hand to help the kid up. “They your parents?”

“My foster parents,” The boy shrugged. “I ran away while they weren’t looking.”

“Well, hey, you oughta go back,” Dick said, looking out at the street again. “You don’t want to run away, it sucks living on the street.”

“I can’t go back there, you can’t make me!” The boy, presumably Tim, shouted, shaking his head. It was then that Dick noticed the bruises on his arms, and he reached out to gently calm the boy.

“Okay, okay,” He nodded. “Listen, why don’t you come home with me, we’ll talk, okay?”

“I’m not supposed to go home with strangers,” Tim said, furrowing his brows.

“No, listen, I won’t hurt you. Promise, okay? If I wanted to hurt you, I would have let them find you,” Dick reasoned, and Tim thought for a second before nodding and following Dick the back way out of the alley.

* * *

 

“Dick, you were supposed to bring back useful stuff, not another stray,” Jason said when Dick was helping the boy through the window.

“Says the original stray,” Dick rolled his eyes, pushing the board back into place. “Tim, this is Jason.”

“You’re that Drake kid!” Jason said, rolling out of his hammock. “That rich kid.”

“Rich?” Dick asked, looking down at him.

 “No, I’m not,” Tim shook his head. “Rich, that is.”

“Why don’t you sit down and tell us,” Dick suggested, motioning for Tim to sit on his bed.

“Well I am Tim Drake, and after my parents died, I got bounced around to different foster parents that only wanted me for my money. But I don’t get any of it until I’m 18, I can’t claim anything,” Tim explained.

“Tim did those people hit you?” Dick asked, and Tim sighed.

“Them, the people before them, the people before them,” He shrugged. “I’ve tried calling the police and getting put somewhere else, it’s always somewhere just as bad.”

“Well, great story, but you have a home, so best be getting to it-“

“Jason!” Dick scolded.

“What? Dick how are we going to take care of some kid?” Jason asked, crossing his arms. “You’re what, 10?”

“I’m 13,” Tim said, and both older boys stared at him with wide eyes.

His growth was so stunted because of the abuse. Poor kid.

“Listen, Tim, you can stay with us, okay? There’s plenty of room,” Dick said, motioning around. Really, he and Jason made it a home. He was surprised no one ever caught them, but really, all the buildings in crime alley were abandoned. They could just up and move to another.

“Dick, you can’t go bringing in every sad kid you find,” Jason said. “They’re going to know if this one is missing and if they find him with us? We’re dead.”

“Please don’t make me go back there, please!” Tim suddenly wailed, and Dick couldn’t help but think of when he saved Jason two years prior.

“Jason, he needs us,” Dick said, and Jason grumbled to himself.

“Fine.” He said, heading for the window. “But he takes your bed, I am not sleeping on the floor.”

* * *

 

Dick let Tim take his turn with the rain bucket this week. It rained a lot in Gotham.

The old bathroom had a drain in the floor, so showering in there was generally what they did. Even if it was only rinse off dirt.

But Dick got a look at Tim’s back when he stripped off his shirt, and it shocked him.

His back was covered in not only bruises, but scars, like he had been hit with something harder than a hand.

“Oh, Tim,” Dick said, and Tim quickly turned around, crossing his arms over his chest. Even though Jason had been abused, it hadn’t been a parent.

“It’s not a big deal,” Tim shrugged, hefting up the bucket and heading to where Dick had directed him previously.

Dick sighed, sitting on the floor where he had slept.

That poor kid.

“Thought today was your day,” Jason said as he squeezed through the window, seeing the bathroom door closed.

“I figured I’d give it to Tim,” Dick shrugged.

“Bad choice, you reek,” Jason said, pulling in a bag full of stuff before boarding up the window again. “But surprise, soap.” Jason pulled a mostly empty bottle out. They always snagged mostly empty bottles of soap and shampoo, tried to stock pile it.

“Jason, I saw Tim’s bruises.”

“Yeah, and?” Jason asked, pulling out what looked like an air mattress.

“Jason what if that couple has other kids?” Dick asked, and Jason pointed his pocket knife at him before he sliced open the top end of the air mattress.

“Oh no, we are not taking in more kids. We’re not an orphanage, Dick, we’re squatters. Just lucky ones,” Jason said. He went to their newspaper pile and started stuffing them into the top of the mattress. Dick got up to help him.

“No, but what I’m saying is maybe we call the police on them,” Dick suggested, and Jason froze.

“Dick, the police are not our friends,” Jason said. “Just leave it be. You don’t have to be the hero all the time.”

“But Jason-“

“No, Dick, you’re not putting us at risk to save some kids who may not exist,” Jason hissed.

“They do exist.”

The two whipped around and saw Tim standing there, pulling on his same shirt.

“They have two other kids, and one other foster child,” Tim explained. “They didn’t really like me. But they only ever hit the fosters.”

“Tim they could all be in danger,” Dick explained.

“Like they’ll be anywhere better if they get taken away?” Tim asked, furrowing his brows. “Don’t bother. They really only hit me the most anyways.”

“But Tim-“

“I’m going to go get some food, okay? I’ve got a couple bucks, I can get us some groceries.” Tim said, going for the window.

* * *

 

He actually had no money, but Dick and Jason didn’t need to know that.

Tim had climbed all the way up to the top of the apartment building. His foster parents would be at work, only Sammy would be home right now. She had dropped out and was doing her school online, but then she just dropped out.

She was probably still asleep, honestly.

Not that she cared.

No one did.

Tim rocked back and forth, knowing with just a little more pressure he’d push himself right over the edge into the alleyway below.

No one would miss him. His money, maybe, but it would go to some far away relative that didn’t even know who he was.

Herb and Laura hated him, so did all the other foster parents. They just wanted his money. Sammy always told him how annoying and stupid he was, and Ryan teased him about how small he was, called him a girl. Even his fellow foster, Kit, she didn’t talk to him.

Maybe Dick would miss him a little, but Jason didn’t want him around. Just like everyone else.

He just wanted to die and be with his parents again.

Tim pushed off with his foot just hard enough to roll backwards off of the edge of the roof, feeling the air rush around him as he closed his eyes and hit-

Something.

Not the ground though.

He was still alive, so it wasn’t the cold cement.

Tim opened his eyes and saw that he was being cradled in the arms of someone.

He looked about the same age as Tim, had on a leather jacket, an earring. And then he realized they were floating in the air.

“Dude, are you nuts?” The boy asked, flying down to gently set Tim on the ground, his feet holding him up. “You could have died.”

“Maybe I wanted to!” Tim shouted at him, crossing his arms over his chest.

The boy was silent for a moment, just blinking at him, before taking off his leather jacket and tossing it around Tim’s shoulders.

“Well I don’t want you to,” the boy said. “I-I don’t care what anyone else says, I care about you, okay?”

“You don’t even know me,” Tim sneered at him.

“I’m Superboy,”  he said, holding out a hand. Tim glared at it until he pulled it back. “Look, whatever it is, it’ll be okay. You don’t have to end things like that.”

“Do you have any idea what my life is like?” Tim growled, leaning closer. “My mother died of cancer, my father died of liver failure after drinking himself stupid, and for five years I’ve been bounced around the foster system to people who didn’t like me, only liked my inheritance money. If you’d been beaten black and blue by people who were supposed to be your parents, you’d wanna die too.”

Superboy was quiet, just staring down at him. He seemed at a loss for words.

“I ran away, now I’m homeless and living in a shack. You think that’s better? You think that’s a good life?” Tim asked, wishing that he could smack that stupid hurt puppy look off of the boy’s face. Though if he had the same powers as Superman, as Tim suspected he did, he’d only be hurting himself. Superboy opened his mouth to say something, but paused when he heard police sirens.

“I’ll be listening for you, okay?” He asked, squeezing Tim’s shoulders. “Just call me, I’ll hear you.”

And with that, the boy flew off. Tim could hear the sirens getting closer and figured he should hide. He ducked around the corner of one of the buildings and started running for what he supposed was now home.

* * *

 

Tim ducked through the window like Dick had showed him how to do, saw Jason and Dick spreading out the air mattress Jason had brought home and they had stuffed with their entire stack of newspapers.

“It’s not much, but is this okay?” Dick asked, and Tim smiled at him.

“Where’d you get that jacket?” Jason asked, spying the leather. Tim didn’t realize it was still tucked snuggly around his shoulders, he had been gripping it with white knuckles the whole way back.

“Some douchy guy gave it to me,” Tim shrugged. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Well, you need somewhere to sleep,” Jason shrugged. “’sides, it had a hole in it. No one else was going to use it.”

“We tried to stuff it as much as we could so you don’t just sink,” Dick explained, and Tim sat down on the bed. It was kind of lumpy, but he was right, they packed it really full. They must have been storing newspapers for years.

“It’s great. Thank you guys,” Tim said, smiling up at them.

“Hey, I think I’ve got a couple of bucks,” Jason said, rummaging around in his pocket. “Let’s go hit up that McDonalds.”

“How’d you get money?” Tim asked, raising a brow.

“I have my ways,” Jason shrugged. “Not that I make enough for rent anywhere, but it’s something.”

Tim looked over at Dick.

“He sells pot, even though I’ve been telling him to stop because it’s dangerous and how he ended up here in the first place,” Dick explained, glaring at the other man.

“Someone has to make some kind of money,” Jason explained.

* * *

 

Tim stepped outside after Dick and Jason had fallen asleep. It was late, and dark inside.

Not that it was much better outside, because the streetlight nearby was out, but he got a bit of a faint, yellowy glow from the one down the street.

This was stupid.

“Superboy,” He said, not loud enough to wake anyone. He only stared up at the sky, watching the smog as it covered the stars.

Sure enough, Superboy was landing on the other side of the chainlink, reaching out to grab onto the fence.

“You okay?” He asked, brows knit in concern.

“Yeah,” Tim nodded, kicking at the ground a little. “I, uh, I realized I forgot to tell you my name.”

“Oh,” Superboy blinked, grip loosening on the fence a bit. He had bent a piece of wire, but didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m Tim,” he said. He would offer to shake hands, but he couldn’t really through the fence. He reached up instead to put his hand over Superboy’s fingers that came through the fence.

“Tim,” Superboy nodded, his face flushing. “Okay.”

“Tim?”

The two looked back at the storefront, it was Dick calling him.

“I should get back inside,” Tim said, giving Superboy a sheepish smile. “But thanks, for today.”

“Anytime,” Superboy shrugged. Tim gave his fingers another squeeze before heading to the window, turning back to wave at him.

“Good night, Superboy.”

“Good night, Tim.”


End file.
